


Nightfall

by FlyinBanachab



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Briggs, F/M, First Kiss, Parties, Post-Promised Day, Winter, emergency surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27752338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyinBanachab/pseuds/FlyinBanachab
Summary: Our first kiss was on the darkest day of my life.Vato Falman smiled at the thought.
Relationships: Briggs Doctor/Vato Falman
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6
Collections: Comfortember 2020





	Nightfall

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for Comfortember #22, "Kisses"... it kinda got away from me.
> 
> A continuation of [18: Hot Cocoa](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515356).
> 
> I was inspired to write this by reading that Utqiagvik, Alaska saw its final sunset of the year on Nov. 18. I know Briggs probably isn't REALLY above the Arctic circle, but I'm fascinated with places that are, so grant me this license if you please.

_Our first kiss was on the darkest day of my life._   


Vato Falman smiled at the thought.   


The truth wasn't nearly so dramatic, but his brain had a habit of dropping sentences like this into his consciousness. Too bad he couldn't summon them on command; he could have been a poet instead of a soldier.   


It HAD been the darkest day of his life, up to that point, quite literally. His first day without a sunrise. Fort Briggs was situated so far north that the sun stayed below the horizon for the six weeks around the winter solstice[1]. And yes, this was his second winter up north, but duties had chanced to keep him south of the fort during those weeks. This was his first, as the locals called it, "nightfall."   
That morning, the fort had felt downright _festive_. Everyone walked lighter, smiled bigger, blew off their paperwork[2]. Falman's shift didn't end until 6--everyone with seniority had claimed the earlier shifts--so he missed the sunset itself. But supposedly that didn't matter; the more important event was the party, and THAT was just getting started[3].   


Gaily clad soldiers and engineers and techs crowded the gallery, gathering around fire pits and cauldrons of mulled wine. Torches burned along the crenelations of the parapet. It was even almost warm.  


Falman stopped at the nearest cauldron and had its keeper fill his thermos (500 cenz). Then he ambled around, chatting with anyone he knew, trying hard to keep his eyes on the person he was talking to instead of searching the crowd for--  


Ah. There she was, conversing around a fire pit. Wearing a burgundy velvet blazer over a black sheath dress, with a black ear warmer in place of her usual headband. His brain dropped in the phrase _ _casually beautiful_ _ and his heart did a backflip in his chest.  


No sooner had he spotted her than she looked back at him, eyes meeting across the gallery. She smiled and raised her thermos at him. After a second of awkward paralysis, he did the same. Had she been looking for him, too? How else could their eyes have met? Should he go talk to her? Was that wave an invitation?  


The obvious course of action was... to stall. He joined a different conversation circle instead, and then a different one after that, not really hearing anything being said, always one eye on that burgundy blazer.  


"Hey Falman, you ok over there?" One of the guys asked him. "You look a little preoccupied."  


Oops.   


"Seems dangerous, this much alcohol on a precipice. Does anyone ever go over the wall?" He asked, hoping that would provide suitable cover.  


The guy laughed. "Nah. If we partied that hard the general would shut it down for good!"  


The man at his right nodded. "And you know she's just looking for an excuse. Well I sure ain't gonna give it to her!"  


The burgundy blazer had broken from her huddle and was headed toward a wine station. Now was his chance.  


Falman made a show of looking into his thermos. "Ah darn. I'm gonna go get a refill."   


He ended up right behind her in the short line. Perfect. Terrifying, but perfect.  


"Hey Doc! Happy Nightfall."  


Up close, he could see that her dress was subtly shimmery, reflecting the warmth of the firelight. She looked up at him-- she barely came up to his shoulder--and asked, "Where've you been? You missed the big event."  


She’d noticed he wasn't there. Had she been looking for him? Falman shrugged sheepishly. "I just came off shift. How was it?"   


"Eh." She tipped a palm skyward. "It was really too cloudy to see anything. Just a slow slide into darkness."  


"Doesn't seem to have stopped anyone from having a good time. I've never seen Briggs cut loose like this."  


"Weird, isn't it? You'd think the big party would be at daybreak."  


"Or both."  


She laughed at that, handing her coins to the man with the ladle. "I like the way you think, Vato."  


_Vato_. She hadn't called him by his first name before. He would remember.  


_I like the way you think._   


She waited while his thermos was filled, and then they drifted, together, to a corner where someone had thrown a tiny table and two chairs. She sat, crossing her legs, showing off the seams on the back of her nylons. Oh boy-- oh no, had she noticed him looking? Eyes up, Falman.  


"This is your second winter here, right?" She asked.  


She remembered. His heart rate jumped up an extra few bpm.   


"Yeah, but last year was so..." they shared a mutual shrug; there were no adjectives that could contain last year. "I ended up down south for the entire Nightfall. What's it like?"  


"Dark. Cold as hell. Claustrophobic." He nodded, remembering how frequently the road to town had been impassible.  


"Do people get depressed?"  


She made a face. "Of course. It's got a stigma around here, which is SO stupid. You're not weak, you're just not getting any sunlight!" She turned and yelled at the crowd, _"I can't treat people who don't come in!!"_ And turned back to him with a such. "I try and educate them, but I might as well be talking to the wall."  


"So how do you cope? People, I mean. With the dark."   


"Oh, the usual. Losing themselves in work. Drinking." Doc paused to take a swig from her thermos, then looked him dead in the eyes while saying, "A lot of people pair off."  


She might as well have injected him with adrenaline. Oh no. Well, oh YES, but oh NO, he's terrible at flirting. Well, _audentes Fortuna iuvat._  


"Are you one of them?" Hey, that was pretty good.  


She raised an eyebrow. "Occasionally. I have very high standards."

"You should! You're worth it!" Damn. Back to being terrible. At least he was sincere?  


But it earned him a smirk. That's not the worst reaction. She asked, "So what are your plans for the long night?"   


He took a hit from his thermos before responding. Don't screw this up Vato, don't screw this up! "I don't have any. I mean, nothing different. Read a lot. Sleep a lot." Deep breath. Here we go. Look her in the eyes. Her eyes were deep and curious, looking right back at him. "Would be nice to have some company."  


She gave him a full smile at that, so, naturally, this was the moment Karley came running up to them.  


"Lieutenant! General Mustang calling!"   


Falman turned to him incredulously. "NOW? You’re kidding." But if Mustang was calling for him, it was at very least important, and very likely urgent. With a deep sigh and an apologetic look he stood to leave.  


"Sorry--"  


She waved him away with an easy smile. "Go do your job, you big important soldier."  


Well, what choice did he have? He trotted after Karley, hoping everything was okay.

\---  


Everything WAS okay, more or less, but it kept him on the phone well past midnight. By the time he hung up with the last contact, he was thoroughly exhausted.   


Of course he went back to the party anyway.  


And of course she was gone. He made a couple circuits around the gallery to confirm, but it had been hours. The party was manned by an entirely new crew of revelers now.  


_Had she gone home alone?_   


Sometimes his brain handed him _those_ kinds of sentences too. He slumped over the outer wall, staring out into the darkness. That was it, wasn't it? That was the moment. And now it's gone, as gone as the sun. Falman dropped his head into his hands.  


"Hey, careful!" Neil's inebriated voice sounded from behind. A moment later, a hand clapped his shoulder. "You don' wanna end up like Taylor do ya?"   


Falman looked up in surprise. (At least she wasn't with Neil. Maybe she really did have high standards.) He'd seen Taylor here earlier, talked to him even; the man had seemed fine. "What happened to Taylor?"  


"He wen'--" Neil, wide-eyed, made a gesture with his hands that, while incredibly sloppy, still effectively conveyed-- "right over th'wall!"  


Falman looked down with a gasp, but of course all he could see was darkness. Discounting snowdrifts, it was 168 feet to the ground. A fall of 84 feet had an average survival rate of 10%. Granted, Taylor was a Briggsman, but still... this was _twice_ that height.   


"Is he..." ... _a red splatter on the snow?_  


Neil shrugged. "Dunno. Doc took'm to surgery. Hope she had less t'drink than me!" And with that he laughed, too loudly, and shambled off.  


Falman straightened up at that, a wave of guilty relief washing over him. _She was in surgery. She hadn't gone home with anyone._ Duty had called both of them tonight. Well... that's Briggs for you.   


He pushed back from the wall and headed toward the exit. There was almost no chance Taylor would make it. But Doc was still in there trying.   


\---  


3:23 am found Falman dozing awkwardly in one of the anteroom's small uncomfortable chairs, but the quiet click of the door latch snapped him awake.   
There she was. Still in her party clothes[4] and completely exhausted. Her eyes widened at the sight of him.

"...Vato?"  


He stood, feeling suddenly shy. This had seemed like a good idea until just this moment. "I-- heard about Taylor. And I thought, however it turned out, you might want someone to walk you home." Whether to brag or to mourn. “Either way, that's a lot to be alone with in the middle of the night.”  


She looked at him with those deep, curious eyes, and he panicked. "Of course, if you don't, that's fine, I just thought--"  


But Doc smiled a small, ragged smile and nodded. "Thanks.”  


They walked the corridors in silence for a few minutes. He didn't ask, and she didn't volunteer. But eventually she spoke, her quiet voice bouncing off the stone walls. "He's stable, but I don't know if he'll ever wake up."  


Falman looked down at her, impulsively grabbing her hand. "I know you did everything you could."  


She nodded. And gave his hand a squeeze. “I did,” is all she said.   


And they kept walking like that, silently, hand in hand, down the echoing halls, until they stood in front of her quarters. She did not move to unlock her door. She did not pull her hand away.

Okay Falman. Don't screw this up.  


"Sylvia..."   


She looked up at him. _Expectantly_.  


"I know it's been a weird night, but..."  


Deep breath.   


"...I would very much like to kiss you."  


She smiled a warm, ragged smile. "Okay."  


So he cupped the side of her face in his hand, and bent over, and met her lips with his. Slowly, gently, keenly aware of the sharp stubble on his face, pulling away much sooner than he'd like, but it was 4 am and they were both exhausted and the last thing he wanted was to be a creep--

But she put a hand behind his neck and tugged at him. "Hey," she said softly, "Where do you think you're going?"  


So he smiled like a dope and kissed her again.

\---

  
[1] Likewise, the sun did not set for the six weeks around the summer solstice. But Briggs wasn't known for its windows. He'd barely noticed.  
[2] Everyone except General Armstrong, of course. But the tradition predated her, and was rooted so strongly and deeply that even she could not completely snuff it out.  
[3] Okay, he HAD missed the fireworks, which they'd set off at sunset--2:26 pm. But that was fine. He'd heard them well enough, even from his station deep inside the fort.  
[4] Presumably she had changed into scrubs for the duration of the operation.  
  



End file.
